


(like a dream) no end and no beginning

by wartimelovers



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, for supernatural beings you arent too smart eh, i will go as far as tagging this as, like.. i wrote it and i still cant believed they didnt realise, oh well, they are both so dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 04:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19265785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartimelovers/pseuds/wartimelovers
Summary: Much like he didn’t plan to fall from Heaven, Crowley certainly did not plan to fall for Aziraphale. It was the same thing at its core, really. In Heaven, he hung around with the wrong crowd. On Earth, he hung around with a certain angel way too often. The only difference, to be completely frank, was that he actively chose to do the latter, whilst he had only sort of went along with the former.Well, that, and the fact that he thoroughly enjoyed time spent with the angel.





	(like a dream) no end and no beginning

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to the second fic in two days span. rather similar thing, i know, but it is for a prompt i received on tumblr (wartimelovers - if you have anything you want written, hit me up). 
> 
> the prompt goes:  
> crowley is hiding his crush since forever?? and after the apocalypse that wasn't a&c are just chilling but crowley suddenly breaks down and confesses, and aziraphale is shook and from now on it's really up to you, he might confess too, he might say he needs more time, etc, anything would work and i'd like to see how you think this scenario would work.
> 
> so naturally i went for both of them being dumb and actually not really realising they are Literally Married. 
> 
> thank you so much for sending me that prompt and as always, please let me know what you thought!!! each comment will earn you a miraculous cup of hot cocoa from yours truly x 
> 
> also may i say that i am truly and really overwhelmed how many people liked the last one like.... it is absolutely amazing and i am so so thankful.

Much like he didn’t plan to fall from Heaven, Crowley certainly did not plan to fall for Aziraphale. It was the same thing at its core, really. In Heaven, he hung around with the wrong crowd. On Earth, he hung around with a certain angel way too often. The only difference, to be completely frank, was that he actively chose to do the latter, whilst he had only sort of went along with the former.

Well, that, and the fact that he thoroughly enjoyed time spent with the angel. It was a thought that Crowley had been scared to even allow in his mind for millennia. The mere idea of ever saying it out loud was laughable.

But, as it was firmly established eleven years ago, times were changing. Not only that, they were supposed to come to an end. Now, _that went down like a lead balloon._

Crowley had always thought that he understood Aziraphale’s significance in his existence quite well. There was the Arrangement, the bickering, the bottles of wine emptied. And then there was the Armageddon.

Not really aware of where his mind was taking him, the sudden image of the burning bookshop startled Crowley. He gasped and pulled himself upwards on the sofa. Aziraphale was safe and sound right next to him, one leg crossed over the other, reading a book. There was a steaming cup of cocoa on a small table right next to him. Everything seemed normal and yet it wasn’t. The abnormality manifested itself as a deep ache of Crowley’s body, the bent timeline like an ugly scar. Nothing that was supposed to happen happened and everything that was supposed to happen didn’t. Now, something like that leaves bruises.

Despite his better judgement, Crowley reached out and placed his hand on top of Aziraphale’s. He had found himself doing that quite a lot recently. Just making sure, despite knowing better than that, reminding himself that Aziraphale was really there, not a figment of his imagination, not a manifested spirit from another plane of existence. It’s been two weeks since Armageddon didn’t happen and Crowley spent the total sum of 57 minutes in his own flat, largely just to water the plants and bring a change of clothes (what an annoying habit).

Naturally, this raised some questions. It usually happened like this: Crowley would reach out and touch, and wherever his hand landed, be it the shoulder, the hand, or, on one occasion, the cheek, Aziraphale would turn to him with a soft expression which faded away as the nature of these moments became apparent. Then, the look on his face would transform into concern, poorly concealed worry. And, without fail, he would always ask:

“Everything alright, dear boy?”

And Crowley would make an excuse. To be completely honest, he thought, it is after all how they’ve functioned all these years.

So, yes, he realised, he _thought_ that he knew the place Aziraphale had in his life. The Armageddon showed him just how far off he was.

The image of the burning bookshop always returned like an unpleasant, oblivious guest. It made its nest in Crowley’s mind one flaming twig at a time. He remembered the pure panic; the way there suddenly wasn’t enough air (which he never needed) and how the burning walls closed in. He remembered the ache setting deep down in his very core and spreading through his body like a disease and how he felt nothing and everything at all. But mainly what haunted him the most was the feeling of loss, the immediate emptiness that he had thought Aziraphale would fill no more.

And even though soon enough he knew Aziraphale was alive and well (in some sense of that word, of course), the knowledge remained. He couldn’t and, more importantly, wouldn’t want to live without his angel. Now, that was a revelation strong enough for a belief change.

It wasn’t mere convenience that kept him by Aziraphale’s side all of these years. It was something deeper, brighter, warm and fuzzy and burning at times. It was how Aziraphale cared for his books and loved earthly food. It was how he found pleasure in learning magic tricks even though he could perform actual miracles. It was how his constant, all-consuming love for all people and things annoyed Crowley and how he couldn’t possibly live without it. And finally, it was also how he had at times found himself feeling grateful for his Fall, because otherwise he might have never known the pure joy of being in the presence of Aziraphale.

Compared with the magnitude of this particular revelation, falling from Heaven seemed like a stroll in the park.

Did that mean he loved Aziraphale? Crowley wasn’t sure what loving someone even truly meant. He wasn’t sure if he was able to feel such things. The contradiction between what he thought was true and what _appeared_ to be true was rather startling. The facts were rather simple: he never wanted to be away from Aziraphale and, above all, wanted to keep him safe and content. That was probably the closest to love he was ever able to get.

Now, time usually didn’t stop for internal monologues and big revelations, and it surely didn’t mean to in that moment on the sofa. Crowley’s hand was still atop Aziraphale’s and the angel looked at his companion over his reading glasses. He wasn’t startled, as if he expected Crowley to do it once in a while now. Maybe he did. Instead, his lips curled in a soft smile. He closed his book, put it aside on the table and brought his other hand to place it over Crowley’s.

“What is worrying you, dear boy?” he asked calmly. There was this one special note in his voice reserved for Crowley only. It always made a tight knot appear in his chest, pulling from within, as if trying to make him collapse inwards. A sweet agony.

“Just tell me,” Aziraphale continued. “I know something is wrong. I can sense it.”

And with that, suddenly, as if the dams opened and the knot gave its final pull, Crowley lost all sense of restraint. He felt his eyes prickle in a rather unpleasant way that he eventually recognised as tears – in his defence, he had only cried once in his eternal existence, and it was right after he discovered the bookshop. So, there was that.

He got up from the sofa and took few steps forward, his back turned to Aziraphale so he wouldn’t have to see the mixture of hurt and worry on his face. And sure enough, once he felt composed enough to face him, there it was, written in the wrinkles around his eyes and in the line of his furrowed brows.

Crowley squirmed in his place, switching from one foot to the other quickly. He could hear himself breathing quicker and deeper, which was apparently a new and ridiculous habit of his body. He forced himself to stand still and let out a deep breath.

There wasn’t any significant release in it and, quite frankly, didn’t help much with the overwhelming anxiety and sorrow. The tears threatened to return as he looked Aziraphale in the eye, his beautiful angel, so alive and real and right there. Crowley knew he had to explain somehow unless he wanted the love of his live to explode from worry.

“I have realised quite a few things since the end of the world,” he began slowly. “I realised how important it is to me to have you in my life, Aziraphale. More important than I’ve ever thought it was.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale lowered his gaze to the floor. “If you are upset about me not wanting to go to Alpha Centauri with you, then you must know that I—”

“It’s not that,” Crowley interrupted him. “At least not just that. I thought I lost you forever, I thought you were gone, and to know how that feels like terrified me to the very core. You know what I was thinking, when you found me in that pub? I wished I still had the holy water you gave me, so that I could use it and not suffer anymore. I was thinking of drinking myself stupid and sending the nearest human to a church to get it for me. I wanted to stop existing—”

“Don’t say that!” Aziraphale said, more of a plea than a demand. “I was fine then and I am fine now so there is no need for such—”

Crowley felt the urgency to express his feelings grow incredibly bigger. The conversation was quickly becoming frantic, none of them fully finishing their sentences. He, too, felt himself drifting further away from sanity.

“But there is!” he almost yelled and only forced himself to steady his voice at the sight of Aziraphale jumping slightly in his seat. The angel was still not looking at him. “I didn’t know that, angel. For all I knew I had lost you forever. And that thought scared me more than anything, really. Hellfire and holy water be damned. The worst thing that could happen to me would be having to live without you here. Or anywhere, for that matter,” he was speaking in a choked, hushed tone now. One rebellious tear broke free and rolled down his cheek.

“Back in that air base,” Crowley continued, “when you said that I had to do something or you would never talk to me again, that hit me really hard. The end of the world would mean the end of you and I just couldn’t let that happen. You make this existence, any existence, worth living. Worth sticking around for. So… There’s that,” he finished awkwardly.

Aziraphale remained silent for a while. Then, he lifted his gaze and his eyes met Crowley’s.

“What are you saying, dear boy?” he asked.

“I’m saying,” Crowley replied quietly, suddenly feeling quite tired and run down, “that I never want to be apart from you. Whatever might come our way. What I feel for you… Well, what would you say to that?” He tried to give his friend a smile that came out only a little bit crooked.

Aziraphale stood up and closed the distance between them. He wasn’t further away than a hand could reach, yet Crowley felt as if he was a thousand miles away. The angel didn’t speak, in turn, he closed his eyes. The look of concentration appeared on his face.

“Are you saying that you…” The rest of the sentence hung unspoken in the space between them.

“I think so,” came the reply.

“May I take your hand?” Aziraphale asked. He opened his eyes and extended his own hand. Crowley took it.

And suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, Aziraphale was in his atmosphere, hands clasped between their chests. He looked Crowley in the eyes and leaned in, touching his forehead against his. It was such an incredibly tender gesture. Crowley could feel his heart racing like crazy. He was sure Aziraphale could feel it, too.

“I never thought about it like this,” Aziraphale spoke softly. “But you spelled it out so clearly. It was all here right in front of my nose and I didn’t see it. What kind of angel doesn’t know he’s in the presence of love?”

“A silly one, I guess,” Crowley offered. Aziraphale huffed out something akin to laugh.

“Yes, I suppose,” he said. “I know you will resent me for saying this, but I think if I realised sooner, before Armageddon happened… or didn’t happen… almost happened… well, I think I would’ve been rather distraught. So maybe, just maybe, all of this happened for a reason. Ineffable one, you might say.”

Crowley stayed silent.

“So were all of this come to the surface sooner, I might have been worried. You know, about my lot,” he smiled without much joy to it. “But I am not now. And all I can think about now is how right you are. I would never want to exist anywhere without you, too. And I know how you feel. I feel it too,” he said, squeezing Crowley’s hands. He firmly looked up into Crowley’s golden eyes.

“I am not sure if I even can—” Crowley began but Aziraphale quickly cut him off.

“But I do. I am an angel, even if a silly one, and I can sense these things. Despite everything, you’ve become a creature of love.”

Crowley gave him a smile. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Might be a slight overstatement.”

Aziraphale smiled back. He placed a soft, sweet kiss in the spot where the tear left a stain.

“I love you so much, Crowley.”

“And I you, angel,” Crowley replied. He leaned in, closing the gap between them and placed the sweetest, most innocent kiss on Aziraphale’s lips. Both of them couldn’t help but smile into it.

And there was nothing more to be done that warm Saturday afternoon, two full weeks after the world didn’t end, but kiss and bask in the joy of being together, alive and well, for millennia to come.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! please do leave kudos and comments for the starving artist.
> 
> tumblr: wartimelovers (come yell about zira and mr janthony crowley please)


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